Underneath Gotham High
by Malo919
Summary: Hi, welcome to Gotham High. I've been told by our class president, Harvey Dent, to warn you about a few things here. Like, stay out of the Rogues' way when they want something. Or, don't talk to the Sanes, they don't really live up to their name. Maybe the best one, though, would be to learn to stay away from the two outcasts, Bruce and Bryce Wayne. Joker and Two-Face may envy you.


Bruce watched in horror and slight fascination, feigning indifference, as Joker was pulled into a straight jacket. It was a sight he was used to, but he could never get rid of the feeling that something about it wasn't right, wasn't supposed to be this way.

Which was odd. It always felt like they were supposed to be doing this forever. Their dance, their fight, their, dare he even think it, love. Of course, it hadn't technically always felt that way. But that was before the dance started, before the song even began to play.

The song was old, faded, muffled, as though it hadn't been played in years. The dance, however, was fresh, new, and exhilirating.

Bruce sometimes felt as though he was watching a movie play by, never fully realising what was going on until the very end, until the crucial moment. He could never fully absorb the scenes behind the scenes, the reason, the meaning, the purpose.

Bruce Wayne never had a purpose. Not really. Neither had Bryce, to be honest. While everyone loved Bruce and Bryce Wayne, they could never fully understand, never get the true beings laying under the imagined thoughts, a smoke shield, barricading them in. They never saw underneath the skin, where the heart lays dormant.

Bruce suddenly snapped to the present as he heard that voice coming up around him, surrounding him and filling his senses. It wasn't anything important. The lyrics to the song never seemed to be. Not until you actually listened.

"Hey, Supey, what's white, blue, and red all over?" Joker never gave him chance to answer. He laughed out, psychopathically, "You, covered in blood!" before he nearly keeled over. Superman, the unfortunate soul who had been called in from the Justice League to help deal with all of it, grit his teeth in frustration as he attempted to herd the clown into the SWAT van, ignoring the onslaught of jibes and jokes. It wasn't wise to let any of your villains rile you up. Especially Joker.

A song abruptly started playing in Bruce's mind, one he hadn't heard in a very long time.

_Welcome to my world of truth..._

Bruce inwardly shook his head. Those days were over. It was time to move on with the dance, learn the new steps.

He used to be able to say he knew the man under the makeup. Knew his thoughts, feelings, reactions, before even the Clown Prince of Crime did himself. Now, however, there was nothing more opposite.

_Look beyond the lies you've known._

What he knew weren't lies. They were real. Buried, but real. Still in tact, and dusty, but the same thing he knew once was the mask, costume, skin, and organs of the joker in the deck.

Now, the mask and all was shoved into a box, put into the closet, locked and sealed with the fears and pains of a man who never really knew what fear and pain was.

A new costume and new lines were written and sewn for this new act.

And Bruce hated all three.

But Batman clung to the evils of the Joker, giving him more reason than ever to fight for his cause, to stay alive and breathing and _knowing._ But at the same time not knowing. It was all so confusing, trying to tell the difference between real and fiction, what he knew then and what he knew now.

He used to knwo Joker, be able to understand his every move. He used to be the only one who could best him at cards. But somehow, Joker'd left that all behind, after only one summer. One long, perfect summer, and it was over. Done. Finished.

_I'm standing here with no apologies. Such a beautiful release. You inside of me._

Batman, Bruce, shook his head as he dramatically flipped his cape and stalked off, soon taking out his grapling gun and firing at the closest building, launching himself fearlessly into the dark, murky depths of the night Batman was born in, the night Bruce Wayne had died in.

_'How can you not remember me, Joe? You were the one who created me. The one who kept me alive. The one who gave me the name of Batman, the Dark Knight. The only one I really had since high school._


End file.
